


Just a little longer

by blcwriter



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Family, Handholding, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, PG-13 (language), Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4226877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blcwriter/pseuds/blcwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  Comment fic for <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/">jim_and_bones</a>  for <a href="http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/446618.html?view=16736154#t16736154">this Daily Captain and Doctor </a>(pics members-locked, must be 18+ to join).  Bones is impatient to get to shore leave, and realizes in his impatience what "family" really means and can mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a little longer

Title:  Just a little longer  
Author: blcwriter  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (language), family, handholding, schmoop  
Summary:  Comment fic for [](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/profile)[**jim_and_bones**](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/)  for [this Daily Captain and Doctor ](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/446618.html?view=16736154#t16736154)(pics members-locked, must be 18+ to join).  Bones is impatient to get to shore leave, and realizes in his impatience what "family" really means and can mean.

\---

It was the same every time-- swarm 'em when they'd disembarked in their civvies, tired when they're just wanting to get goin' home and so fuckin' exhausted from whatever mission they'd tied up with duct tape, spit and a prayer-- that and Jim's luck that never did quite ever run out, that and his damned stupid grins, even when he'd come bouncing awake after surgery like that Tigger Leo would read to Jo about in their bedtime talks over the vidcomms. That Jim could do the Tigger voice better once Leo'd introduced them seemed only natural.

The camera flashed, the PR lights glared, the news beings were shouting and hell, the Betazed tabloid people, no fucking manners at all, were shouting questions _right into_ his head. He arched an eyebrow at Spock, who nerve pinched 'em. Good man.

"Hi, Momma," he said, hugging Eleanor in once he'd elbowed some of the more obnoxious camera beings aside. If he whiffled her hair to confirm she still smelled like verbena a bit, well, Leonard McCoy, CMO of _Enterprise_ , was much taller than his mother and it wasn't surprising that his nose might come into contact with her hair during a hug, now, was it?

"Jo's at the house with Ivan," his mother said softly. "I would've," she started, but Leo nodded. The throngs were too big and Jo wasn't intimidated at all, but still. It was stupid to expose her to trampling and all, and he didn't want her photo all over. She was a girl, still. Time for things like "daughter of a hero" bullshit later, not that he was, but there was never telling the PR people anything, except for a nerve pinch or a punch.

He put on his best patient face and answered some questions about the plague on Deneb IV and then some more questions about the uprising on Altair, his arm still firmly keep his momma close because damned if he was going to let go. When the questions (to his mind) began to repeat themselves and his inner chrono told him a half hour had gone by, Jim's caution before they'd stepped onto the transporter platform (well, that and his damned stupid cautioning kiss on the forehead, because he knew how Leo hated these things and it wasn't like he was going to let a kiss from Jim go by, was he?) "Just a little longer, Bones, and then we can go home," was now out of time.

He looked out over the crowd and it didn't take long because Jim was always the brightest, busiest, most gravitational spot, even if he didn't have the largest group of press corps around him. "C'mon, Momma," he said, and with a bare "S'cuse me, folks, we are done here, call 'Fleet if you've more questions," he moved them both off toward Jim. Jim was still explaining how they'd quelled the shitstorm on Altair, though of course he was downplaying (a) how Leo'd had to sew his arm back on with fucking sutures, of all barbaric things, and (b) how he'd been the one to have to talk sense into all five sides of the rebellion too many times when things kept going sour and the shooting started again. Well-- the truth'd come out. Always did, and then Jim looked even better for being serious and business-like rather than being a gloryhound like Mitchell or some of those other assholes.  
 

He raised his eyebrows at Sam, who seemed to have gotten the memo about which of Jim's arms was still bum and was gripping the other shoulder-- and Sam nodded, leaned in and murmured something into Jim's ear. Jim turned and looked out and-- goddamnit, Leo was not a goobling pile of mush as he smiled back. Or was. Fine. Whatever.

He was always a sucker when it came to that kid.

"Ready to go?" he asked, jockeying his way in as he shouldered aside reporters and made sure Momma didn't get jostled. He nodded at Sam, smiled to himself as he noted the way he and Eleanor hugged and otherwise greeted each other like maybe they talked all the time. Seven years now, maybe it was time that they made this little family of theirs a more permanent thing than just wending through crowds on shore leave and shuttling between quarters and whose farmstead they were staying at this time or which vacation resort. Where was it this time? Oh. Momma's, she'd said.

"Can't wait," Jim replied, his fingers finding Leo's and fixing themselves like he wouldn't ever let go. He squeezed Leo's hand for good measure. "You ready?" His smile was no challenge, just reassurance.

Leo squeezed back. "Yeah. Yeah, Jim. I am." 


End file.
